


First Kiss

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 01:52:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8426041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: They've been waiting some time.





	

It’s become a habit. It shouldn’t have, but it has. Whenever one of them has a bad day, they sneak to the other’s room at night and tap their way inside. If it’s obvious one or the other is going to need it, the door isn’t even locked.

He finds she’s already left it open today, and he gratefully pads inside. 

He didn’t even try to sleep in his own bed.

Off comes the mask, the boots, the cowl. He never strips beyond that, unless he’s in his own bed, of course. He wants to make sure she knows he’s not disrespecting her, and he slips under the covers to hide in her warmth.

After a while, she turns. His eyes meet hers, and he sees pain reflected back at him. Pain because he hurts. She wants it to stop, and so does he.

Fingers on his jaw, over his cheekbone, to the side of his nose, down to his mouth. He turns his head, presses the smallest of kisses to her battle-callused edges.

“Stay,” she orders him.  


He wants to. Oh, he wants to. His hand grasps hers, and they’re about the same in every respect, aren’t they? Everything that matters, and everything that doesn’t.

“You don’t need to keep leaving.”  


“Neither do you,” he points out, even though he knows this is unequal in many respects. _He_ could order her, and he does not.  


They tangle closer, and he feels her chest heave in minor worry. It’s always like this, on the brink of something else. Using excuses in order to explain away their behaviour, when really? There isn’t one.

He tilts his head, his nose against hers. It’s long enough to act as a warning, and a barrier. She doesn’t have to respond, and he’ll know he’s gone too far.

The tiniest, tiniest tilt of her head, and he knows she wants it, too.

Eyes closed, he brushes his lips against hers. They’re softer than he expected, and he doesn’t know what you do next, but after a while they stop. 

She’s panting heavier, though not from exertion. It’s nerves, and he strokes her hair. “Not good?”

A shake, a nod, and - which does she mean? “Good.”

The second kiss is slower, and he doesn’t actually know when it stops.


End file.
